Doll Collection
by black rose97
Summary: Breach has many dolls. She has some she loves and some she hates. And some dolls sh can never get back. Each doll tells a story. Breach knows them all. Now so can you. REVEIW!
1. Chapter 1

I love Breach! If I was an evo I would want to be like her! "Your my new toy!" chilly cool! Rex and her go together more then anyone else in my eyes!This is basically the collections of dolls some have Breach as herself (human and evo) and others main characters in her life. So enjoy! *first generator Rex story!

Chapter 1: Brenna the puppet

Breanna was the puppet. She spoke when spoken to and never stepped out of line. Her mother was the master. She would pull the strings and make her dance and put on a show. The audience would clap. They always clapped.

"Breanna you will go to this school." Her mother stated bluntly pointing at the prestigious building as she strolled pass. Her ebony hair in a high bun and no bangs in her face. Just like her mother liked it.

"But mother, my friends.." Breanna murmured quietly. Her mother sent her a venomous glance. Puppets weren't allowed to speak out of turn. The small child with pale porcelain skin clutched the a baby doll to her chest. It looked exactly like her expect for the bright blue eyes and the happy smile pasted on her face.

"You will make new ones. Do not question me, I know best." The mother looked down at her child, daring her to question her master. All she did was hug the 'mini Breanna' to her chest

At home Breanna ate silently. Her potion was smaller then everyone else. Mother told her if she wanted to be a model, which she didn't, then she had to learn to eat in small helpings. Mother had dreams of her being a smart, business savvy model who ran the whole fashion industry. Strong, beautiful, and famous. Everything her mother wasn't she pushed onto Breanna. She trained her like the dog she was.

"Breanna elbows off the table."

"Yes mother."

"Seven chews, no more no less."

"Okay mother."

"Do not say god's name in vain."

"Sorry mother."

It went on like this every dinner until Breanna wasn't sure who's words flowed out her mouth, hers or mother's. "She was the image of perfection" said all the agents and photographers. "Perfect face, body, and disposition. Like the perfect model."

After dinner, Breanna was locked in the glaze of flickering flame beside her window. It's arouma was a sweet cinnamon the smelled like the cookies her mother would never bake. It was all she could she see, not the book she was instructed to read. She watche the flame burn the wax. Fire always took. Like her mother but warmer. Her gaze wondered to 'mini Breanna'.

Puppets are made of wood and string. Wood and string burns. The burns would set me free. It all made sense. She got up, taking her Dollie and then held it over the open flame. The shiny black shoes caught on fire. It crawled up her white socks and then to her neat and tidy sun dress. Finally the head and neck were consumed in flames. She drop the heated doll and stepped back. The burning chard of a toy was spreading the red and orange flames over the her room. No more Breanna. No more perfection. No more strings.

Breanna didn't hear her mother run upstairs. She didn't hear her scream in pain as she broke her ankle and cry for help as flames bit at her skin. She didn't hear the Firefighters rush up the stairs and swing their heavy axes to free her close to dieing body. All she heard was the snapping of the puppet strings. Snap. Snap. Snap. Her master was no more. Breach's collection lacks perfection. One more thing broken.

**I thought the ending was cool so that's how I'll end it. This is all about control. Breanna was Breach as a little girl and how controlled her mother her every beaning. Breanna destroyed the mini her in symbol of breaking the bond with her mother. This also will help explain Breach's thing with perfection and order. Her mother demeaned it and when she's older she will realized she killed her and will try and get the perfection back. You like, well than review. If you don't, flame. But be warned I'm magic and magic beats fire. **

**Next: Bre the barbie**


	2. Chapter 2

Hi! I'm back with more Breach! This time she's about 12-14 instead of 6-8. This is boarder line mature so beware so enjoy!

Chapter 2: Bre the Barbie

Bre leaned back into the cool wall behind her. He tossed the blankets off and waited for him to come and get her. She watched the shadows dance and sing. She loved the sound it gave her comfort until he ended her safe feelings. Her fingers ran over the delicate features of the Barbie in her hands.

The small crook of her nose to the plumb bumps of her lips. The blue eyes stared back at her aimlessly. The silky black hair was long and fell over her fingers. Bre's eyes trailed down to her naked form. Two identical mounds for breast and curvy lines for a waist. Long tan legs attacked by a small 'U' shaped curve for a private area.

Bre looked down at her form. Budding in her chest were showing through and her waist began to develop a subtitle roundness. He always like her. Called her pretty. His ebony butterfly, his dark Barbie. He even went as far as purchasing the doll for her. It was a staking resemblance but the doll wouldn't do for all she could for him, apparently.

Three knocks. Tap. Tap. Tap. And he was in. He was her foster father. He'd slip from his plump wife at night and roam to her room. Tap. Tap. Tap. Then he'd step in. After the first night he instructed her to sleep in the nude for him. She obey. Like the good doll she was.

"Hello Bre." He stepped closer to her. She could practically smelled the cigarette that had been dangling from his mouth before dinner. Midnight stroke.

He placed a scummy hand on her shoulder, looking at her naked body. He removed the doll from her hands and placed it away on the floor. Bre's eyes followed. "Time to play." Good thing dolls were silent, they can't scream for help.

The next morning Bre woke up alone, like always. She slowly shifted over to get ready for her private school. She dressed the Barbie in a shirt and skirt then placed it into her back pack. Bre couldn't leave her here for the same fate.

"Good morning!" Called her foster mother, Gloria. She put a plate of pancakes and eggs in front of an empty chair in the dinning room. "Come let's eat." Bre looked at the door.

Her foster mom wasn't that bad..just a failure. She failed losing weight. She failed at college. She failed to see that her husband went to other women. She failed to see that other woman was her foster child. She failed to see the obvious. All for the reason to protect. The one thing she could do right. Protect herself.

"Let her go, Gloria. She must've had a long night." Ray the 'he' said smiling at his own sick joke. Bre walked to the door without a word. She wouldn't have to see them ever again.

"Bre! Hey." yelled Mai. She and her three friends called her over. The picture perfect faces.

Barbie dolls with her arms locked with ken dolls walked around the front yards. They fell right in place, all of them. The nerd collectibles, and the artsy toys, and the jock action figures. Every one fell into step but it seemed Bre was off a beat.

Bre gave a short wave and stayed still so her 'friends' could come close. Mai, Terra, Donna, and Guinevere smiled and had their long hair swish with every step. Their long cream arms were enter locked and the forming c-cups bounced lightly. Picture perfect.

"Bre come one let's go!" Terra called. She was the loud friend. Her bleach white hair ran down to her hips.

"Shh! Terra! She can hear you! You are like four feet and eight inches away." Told Donna exactly. She was the smart friend. Bre moved quietly to the pack of per-made drones. All with different faces but the same programing like with all the rest of the world's school.

Mai grabbed and Bre's arm and walked with her to school's front door. Bre completed the set. Loud Terra, Smart Donna, Musical Guinevere, Likable Mai, and now Silent Bre. They were ready for there spot on the display table.

Half way during class, Bre swept away to the empty bathroom. She had time. The puke puppets and make up manacins wouldn't come till about 12:30. She sat on the toilet seat and took out the doll.

Her shimmery hair bounced light off its strands. He face and body still as perfect as it was the day it was made. Bre decided to fix that. Bre was the doll. And Bre was far from 'prefect'.

She took out a small cutting knife. She looked back and forth from knife to doll. With an easy swipe she slashed the right arm of the doll. Instead of blood, there was a thin white line with plastic peelings falling off. She raised the knife to her own arm and with the same ease, slice down in the same direction.

Crimson liquid slipped out the fresh cut. It seemed the wound let out more then blood, to Bre's surprise. The eerie voices roaming the back of her mind fell forth, cover in her blood.

"Murder." They whispered. "Killer. God forsaken. Your just like her." The murmured in a harmonic way that put her to a pain filled sleep.

"Stop." her voice cracked and quivered. She sliced the dolls right hand, then did the same to her own. More voices.

"Monster. Demon. Killer." The sang louder and louder. Every cut on the doll replicated her own. She didn't stop until the Barbie's arms were covered in the white slashes and the voices were to loud to stop.

"Killer. Monster. Just like her. Demon. Ugly. Tainted. Just like him." Bre's minded flashed with pictures of her forceful mother and disgusting foster father. The voices screamed so loud she was sure the school shook from the sheer volume.

"Killer. God forsaken. Imperfection. Chaos made man. Go destroy some more." The voices sent tears and blood to drip to the sparkling bathroom floor. Bre summoned the last of her strength and edged some last words into the stall door. She dropped the bloody knife with a sharp clank, the doll with a soft thud. She ran out the bathroom running from the voices as the screamed their song of trues at her. No one knew the blood soaked girl run out the building and would never be seen again.

Mai and the gang had gone looking for Bre at lunch.

"She went to the bathroom. I hope everything okay." Fretted Mai as she pushed open the bathroom door. She and her friends screamed to see a trail of blood droplets painted on the floor. Terra, the loud mouth, ventured to follow the crimson path to find a bloody door, her friends not far behind. Inside the stall was a knife, cover in blood of course, and a black haired Barbie that was coated in long scratches.

On the door in Bre's perfect handwriting was craved a message sprinkled in blood.

"Barbie is no more."

** There! That was really sad for me to write. Poor Breach. It's really dark and scary this one. The next one isn't another Breach doll. It's a special little girl who wants to be her favorite...umm who could that be?**

** Thanks for the reviews! And give some more!**

**Next: Tammy the baby! With real killing powers!**


	3. Chapter 3

Hey ppl! Thanks for the reviews! Here is more Doll mania but this one is centered around Breach but her little friend from her episode. Don't worry Breach is still in it. Thx to Solora Goldsun her little bit will be freatured! Enjoy.

Chapter 3: Tammy the baby doll that kills

Tammy was cute. Supple checks, round and smooth. Small adorable dashes of brown for freckles that scattered across her nose like the stars did the night. Honey blonde hair that was always cut short to her ear.

Tammy's mother had once thought she was cute. She took her everywhere. The mall, night classes at the University of Ohio, to meetings with her friends. They would sit in groups and whine how they all wanted dolls like Tammy.

At night Sara, the mom, would tuck Tammy the baby doll into fluffy covers, kiss her head, and tell her she was her favorite. Tammy was filled with pure bliss. The little doll wanted to stay favorite in the mother's eyes she cooked and cleaned since she was old enough to hold a broom and pan. She needed to stay favorite. To be remembered. Tammy didn't know girls grow up. When girls grow up they lose interest in baby dolls.

Soon after Tammy was ten, Sara got a new favorite. It had a was a glass green tinted bottle filled to the brim with a bubble brown juice. Sara seemed to play with the juice more than she did with Tammy. Sara yelled and slept more. She kept Tammy on the shelf and played with the bottle more.

After a year of playing with the bottle and Tammy who was coated in dust of the past. Sara found a new favorite. It was white powder in a bag. Sara would crave the powder even when her nose was stinging red. Tammy lost her pretty doll house and was moved to a slummy box.

Tammy tried her best to compete with the baggy of unknown subsistence. She'd cook Sara's favorite food. She stopped going to school to tend to her mother who sometimes had sickly episodes. The blondie clean the house just like Sara liked it. She even want as far as hiding the bag from her mother. Sara didn't like that. Her new favorite was to deeply embedded in her system. She beat Tammy till her bottom bleed. Tammy got the bag and left to got back to her shelf.

To get more bags Sara brought new favorites. Men of different sizes and shapes would come and play. Tammy could her them moaning in joy from her spot upstairs. Sometimes her mom would slip in and feed her some colorful candy.

"Swallow." Sara said softly, patting her back with was love. Cold and distant but love! Tammy thought the candy was a game so she gladly swallowed them.

The candy made her sleepy. When she woke up she would be naked on their pull out cough. Sara would call her a 'whore' and command she go get dress. Every time she ate the candy her mother would use that word.

"It must mean favorite in another language." Tammy thought ignorantly, to afriad to admit the truth that had bubbled under the surface. So Tammy would crave for mother to call her that, it reassured her and gave her a false sense of security. She would look forward to the nights when mother gave her candy and take her down to play with her guy friends.

"Swallow." Sara murmured in her ear. One night Tammy decided she would be remember the fun so she held the candy in her mouth and closed her eyes. Sara lifted her twelve year old daughter into her arms and carried her down stairs.

"What a cute little thing. Barely over four and a half feet." Remarked a gruff voice. The girl was small and light from years of lack of food, neglect, and proper growth stimulants. Tammy felt a large and caress her body, lingering on her barley budding chest.

"How much?" The voice asked.

"20 bucks an hour. The pills would keep her out for at least 6 or 7." Said a high voice. Sara. What pills? Tammy ran her tongue of the small candies in her mouth that were fizzy from saliva. What pills?

Tammy lightly cracked her eyes. She saw a dirty looking man about twice her mother's age look down on her body. Eyes murky brown run over the small hills and valleys of her form. What game was this?

"You sure you don't wanna join Shranda? Little girl on girl action?" Asked the man. Sharnda? Her mother's name was Sara. Tammy couldn't she her mother's face but heard her reaction.

"Not tonight. I don't feel like humping this runt right now." With that Tammy heard Sara walk away. The man turned to her.

"Well I guess it's just you and me." The man pulled off her shirt then her shorts and panties. He ran his disgusting hands over her body. He probed her with fingers and odd toys that she never seen before in places she never thought were open. Strangely it didn't hurt. It felt slightly painful but her body agreed to it. He thing pulled his pants off to reveal a stubby finger? He placed himself over her and then stick it in her 'special area.' Tammy realized something.

These candies are bad.

Sara is bad.

This man is bad.

Tammy, the cute baby doll, was bad.

"Mom! Mommy! Help!" Tammy cried struggling to free herself. Her mouth foamed with the rainbow pills her mother feed her. Sara came in sucking on a cigarette. She rolled her eyes.

"Shut up will ya honey? Just play with the nice man your his favorite." Tammy was a favorite...she was loved, but not by her owner. She stepped out the room. The man smiled down on her.

"Now that' your up, let me hear you scream my name." The guy's tone was greasy and dirty.

Tammy cried herself through the time as the man pumped into her. She cried when he left and hand her mother forty bucks. She cried when her mother threatened her with a knife for making her lose money. She cried when she took that knife and stabbed it in Sara right above the heart, in the lung. She cried when her mother's last words were, "I hate you." Baby dolls with cry unless they have someone to love them.

The blonde hair child looked over the crashing waves and the deep mystery of the Ohio river.

"I hate you. Just jump already. Whore." Her mother said to her. She stood in mid air over the waters below.

"But I'm your favorite." The daughter murmured. Her mother's raggedy hair was knotted and the blood from the wound stained her strapless white grown. Her laugh was a cruel shriek.

"Favorite..yea right. I loved drugs more than you. I loved sex more than you. Hell I sold your body to men to have sex with you to get more drugs! Isn't that funny you little whore? Just do me a favor. Drop dead." Tammy fought back tears in her ghostly blue pools.

"No..no NO! You love me. I'm your favorite!" Tammy raced towards the edge to catch her mother and shake sense into her. She jumped over. Her hand reached out towards her but it went right through her figure.

"Why would I love my killer? O well. See you in hell whore."

"Pretty...so pretty." Tammy woke up to the gentle voice of another female.

"Mom?" she asked as her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. In front of her was a beautiful girl. Black ebony hair and skin as white as mom's powder. Her eyes were baggy and worn but you could still see those perfect orbs of chocolate brown. She didn't look anything like the red nosed, frizzy haired, mess she called a mother. She looked young too.

The girl kept tenderly touching her face as if she was made of glass and might break apart.

"Perfect..new. Hello." The girl said finally addressing her. She brought her hands away and place them in her lap. Tammy looked around. Broken and misshapen ed dolls and unfinished fake heads lined the room. Full body models stood motionless and draped in creepy but beautiful clothes that all seemed to be lacking the finishing touch.

"Where am I?"

"My safe place. Your new home. I never had I live one before." The girl said as she walked around the small cozy room. Her hands delicately brushed the lines of clothes and faces. The dolls the flinch or even blink. The ebony haired princess turn her back to the freckled maiden and straighten a misplace doll.

"A live what?" The girl turned to face her once more smiling faintly.

"Doll. You breathe and talk and walk..just like me. What is you name?"

"Tammy-," She stopped to think if she should include a last name then she remember the last of her family was dead, so no need. "Yea just Tammy." The girl frowned.

"Tammy? No your name is...Molifer Jones. Molly J. for short." The girl decided, satisfied with the new name. Tammy, or now Molly J, glared at the girl.

"You can't rename me my mother-..." Molly stopped. She killed her mother. Did she really have any right using her name or even suggesting that she had one?

"I know, you killed her. Just like me. I've had my eye n you. The doll I always wanted. You previous owner didn't treat you right. I'll take care of you like all my others. But you're special. My favorite." The girl's voice was so geniue Like her mother's before she left her for the green bottle. She pure and loving. Molly hadn't been a favorite for a long time.

"Really..?" she hesitated.

"Forever, you will keep me happy and I will keep you happy Molly J, okay?" Molly's new owner questioned. Molly shook her head all to eager to please and be loved, like any other baby doll.

" What's your name?" Molly asked looking up with a smile.

"Call me B. come on Molly J, time to play dress up."

** Hey ppls! I not my best work but I give it a B. lol get it B for Breach?(cornier than cheese) Tammy's mom was a teenage mother so when she got stressful she started to drink and one thing lead to another and she became a crack whore. She sold Tammy's body for coke money. That makes me sad cause some mother's really would do this. I was inspired by my friend from school who told me what a crappy mother she had and all the things she did to her and I model Sara after her. Can you guess where B's safe place is? You get a cookie if you guess right! See ya.**

**Next: Daddy bear.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Enjoy!**

Chapter 4: Paper that never burns, doll that never learn

"Get up bitch." Snarled the boy. He kicked the Evo in the ribs, not even bothering to stop when he heard several cracks. His blonde haired friend spitted on her black listless hair. She held back tears and looked up. Her pale skin was cover in large discoloration and her she was pretty sure three out of four arms were broken.

"Tell me bitch. Tell me why my mother died in the explosion while you live. What the fuck is great about you?" Breach held back a laugh. Living. That was funny. She didn't think being beaten in an alley four hours past midnight was any way to live.

"Answer him bitch.:" The blonde demanded. He pulled out a rusty knife and held it to her throat.

"Why don't we cut the bitch Ted? Who would care?" Ted smiled cruelly his brown choppy hair whipped at the night wind. Killing her wouldn't bring his mother back. Nothing would but he was to drunk to know this and to lost to care.

B didn't blame them. She was a useless ugly beast. Why not finish her off? Her monstrous limbs hung from her frail shoulders. Both were broken. With those enlarged fist she could have easily batted the two away from her but she didn't want to.

She was the paper doll. They created a thing to beat. They tape together freaky parts and sewn in their own insecurities and began shredding their production. B was nothing but litter in the wind. Her life was as delicate as the thin white sheets that made her.

Ted grinned manically. Kill the freak it said to her.

"Yea! We might even get a metal for taking care of her." Ted growled and nodded at his pal. He was about to slice through her thin skin to her throat when vines came and entangled the knife.

"Agggrrrh!" Scream Ted's friend as his skull crack from pressure of the vines that consumed his body. Ted was mute because the the plant life and crumbled his neck like a soda can, enabling him to scream. As their faces frozen in terror sharp spikes ripped deep holes through their bodies. Bloody organs and white bone pieces litters the ground, smearing with the small droplets of B's blood.

The bloody thorns and vines fell onto the ground with the limp corpses and a man came to stand over Breach.

"Hello my dear." His voice was smooth and clean suggesting that he had nothing to do with the gruesome violent deaths that happened mere moments ago. B was filled with darkness as she took in the man's features.

Strong jaw. Black midnight hair with strikes of gray showing signs of aging and maturity. Knowing eyes with a slightly crooked nose that added to his wisdom. Red piecing eyes. And a hearty smile that was wrapped in care. Then darkness.

_ Fire. The sick smell of flesh. B stood untouched by hot flame. Her house fell apart in ashes. Smoke cover everything._

_ Snap. Snap. Snap._

_ Breach looked over her shoulder. Mother's burning carcases laid on the floor. Her flesh was a covered in puss yellow goo and burnt blood. Her hair was stringy and matted. Mother's left eye hung from a pink stem while the other one was burned white. Her body sat up and her blind eye locked with hers._

_ "Breanna..." She murmured. In a blink of an eye B's throat was in the grasp of mother dearest. Blood slide out from under her sharp claws. Snap. Snap. Snap._

_ "Hear that Breanna?" she breathed into her ear. Despite the rotten pink flesh the peeled out of her body and splashed on charred ground and the putrid smell of stale blood mixed with burning bones, her breathe was cool and spicy. "Hear me dieing?" snap._

_ B was too stricken with fear to respond. Her eyes traced the sagging eye and the floppy skin that melted into her neck. She tried to raise one of her over size hands to usher the woman off of her neck._

_ "Going to kill me again? Or maybe runaway. Like you always do," Her mother flung her into a pile of destroyed furniture. B could her her ankle snap in pressure as she fell to the ground. She screamed in pain. "Coward." Her mother spatted. _

_ Mother stood over her wounded child. Her body once again consumed in flames. "Mother knows best." She smiled with her crusted and bloody lips, her thin skin stretched with the curl._

_ Everything around B faded into the fires. _

_ "Die."_

B screamed as she pushed herself up with her large arms. She was in a unknown room. All her wounds were patched and her broken bones were healing in a caste. She could feel the nanites inside her work to fix the problems.

The room was barely finished, just a sleeping bed, a nightstand, and cur-tings. Her bed was next to the window. The crescent moon looked back at her as it nearly faded into the horizon and the sun was threatening to peak over. The sky was mixed with warm reds,oranges,and pinks that fought off the deep dark blues,blacks, and purples that still lingered.

"Your awake." The man from before had some how slipped into her room unnoticed. B made a note of that for later.

"Where am I?" B asked. She wasn't one for formalities. _You never were on to listen._ Her mother scolded from the back of her head. She pushed it aside and wished the woman would stay in her dreams.

"The blunt one aren't we? Well I would prefer it like that. This is Abysus. I'm Van Kleiss, the master of this domain." In the lighting B was able to stud the man more clearly. His left arm was a bulky golden metal glove that ran into a red cloak. The cloak was over a black shirt and golden scarf. Breach focused on the glove. It seemed so pretty and shiny. She adored how the light caught the piece perfectly.

"What do you want?" B didn't take her eyes off the glove she decided to name Gauntlet of Destruction or G.o.D. She giggled to herself at the small pun.

"I have a deal for you."

From that day on B became Breach meaning broken or ruined. Stills he was cronstructed and changed for different people.

With Van Kleiss she glued and stick pieces together to contrasted a perfect silent killer. Her portal shurikens and her heavy fist made it easy for her to deliver Evos to him to feed on. As long as the she didn't pick at the tape, their deal would not fall apart.

With the rest of the pack they built the perfect teammate. Obedient, skilled, and could provide an easy escape route. The glued the pieces messily together, not taking care to how the end result looked like.

In her dreams Breach was the perfect torture victim. Her mother sewn her with laces of hate and blood. Mother to extra care in making sure no matter how hard she battered her the flimsy paper and string that held her together would last till dawn. Mother made sure the paper never burned.

Despite what people think paper, could not last. You could not tape over or glue away any problems you find. Paper could not last. It took only one cut, one slice to take this paper doll away. Away from being saved. Away from being prefect. Away from life.

**Hey ppl! I think this one's okay. If you don't quiet understand what an actual paper doll is go to Wikipedia and type in 'paper dolls' and you can understand the ending better. Yea I know I said it was Van Kleiss who was going to be the doll but does he really seem like the usable type? Nope. So for the next chapter I need a a doll of Dr. Holiday any thoughts? **


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